someone out in the big world will crush your face
by callmesandy
Summary: It was a perfect scam. Peter thought of it while drinking after Olivia stopped David Robert Jones's bomb with her mind. Peter's changed, sure, but he's not completely reformed. (Au after 1.14)


Notes: Title and opening quote from Dara Cerv's Bath Exercise. For the GWYO bingo setting seen below. Thanks to the JAM.

* * *

 _You can cut a person out of_  
 _The scenery you can cut_  
 _A million people out of the scenery_  
 _Paste over them or into them wisdom_  
 _That someone out in the big world_  
 _Will crush your face against  
A mirror without question _

It was a perfect scam. Peter thought of it while drinking after Olivia stopped David Robert Jones's bomb with her mind. She'd stared at those lights and he was so sure he was going to die, but they didn't. Now Peter had an idea that would make him a lot of money.

He refined it as he walked over to Olivia's place. He couldn't just skip town at the end anymore, he needed to pull it off and not get caught, not even get suspected. It was a problem and he could work out the solution. The real ideal would be to not only not be a suspect, but to perfectly frame Big Eddie at the same time. He smiled like he hadn't in months. This was really brilliant.

He texted Olivia before knocking on the door, her sister and niece probably didn't keep Olivia's sort of hours. She texted back that she would come downstairs. She was in sweats, not pajamas. She'd been awake. She forced a smile. "I still don't want to go drinking, Peter."

"Are you okay?"

Olivia shrugged. "There was a cortexiphan trial in Jacksonville. Nina called to tell me."

He was drunk enough to reflexively pull her into his arms. He held her tight, and she clung to him for a moment. Then she backed away. "Peter, it's not that bad."

"Jones was right," Peter said. He thought, just then, how he could make sure Big Eddie was the patsy. He looked at Olivia and touched her jaw for a moment. "Olivia, you really did turn off those lights." He almost shivered. He had to get away and do this plan. He couldn't stay with Olivia right now.

"Peter," Olivia said. She touched his jacket. "I don't think I did. But maybe you could take me somewhere."

He smiled at her. "Absolutely." He took her hand and pulled her to the street. He called a cab.

Olivia cocked her head to one side. "Where are you taking me?"

"Someplace comfortable to sleep," he said. "Separate beds, don't worry. Practically something I demand, thank you. No couch for me tonight."

She followed him, though. She sat on the bed across from him while he started to close his eyes. "Peter?"

He opened his eyes. He had a plan solidified now.

Olivia said, "If I was treated with cortexiphan, maybe I did turn off the lights." She sounded very young as she said it.

"Olivia, do you think that's possible?" He thought about who to call, who would answer his call. He felt a thrum of something, like anticipation. He'd stayed up there to die with her, there was something wrong with him.

He got off the bed and reached for his phone. He said, "What does it mean if you did it?"

"These cases," Olivia said, now sounding like herself. "You spend enough time surrounded by insanity, you start adjusting."

"If you mean my father, I really hope I never adjust," Peter said. "I need to make a call."

He stepped outside into the hallway. He came back inside after an hour. Olivia stirred, woke up. She said, "Is it time to get up?"

"Not at all," he said. He tucked the blanket on her bed around her, smoothed down her hair.

"I don't need to be taken care of," Olivia said.

"You don't sound ridiculous saying that at all," Peter said.

She snarled at him.

He watched her sleep.

Xxx

She found him that afternoon in the lab, changing out of his nice suit. He zipped up his jeans, and said, "You could knock, Dunham."

"You answer the door in your underwear," she said, sitting down as he put on a t-shirt. "Where were you all morning?"

"Was there a case?" He knew there hadn't been.

"We can't locate Jones. How hard can it be to find a man who can barely walk?" Olivia ran her hand through her hair.

"Obviously his subordinates took care of that," Peter said. "Do we have any clues on that?"

"Clues," Olivia said, looking up at him with a small smile. "We've got a candlestick, someone named Miss Scarlet."

"Pardon me for my outdated language," Peter said. He sat down in the chair next to her as he changed shoes. "Okay, surveillance on the building where the bomb was. Which industrious FBI agent has that duty?"

"It's already been looked at," Olivia said.

"Already? It's been barely 12 hours," Peter said.

"I can't find anything on cortexiphan, nothing more than I did the first time," Olivia said.

"You could let it lie," Peter said.

"I don't actually think I can," Olivia said.

Peter reached for her shoulder, rubbed her back. She didn't shrug him off. He was juggling a few things in his head, but never let it be said Peter Bishop couldn't calculate more than one equation at a time.

"I can teach you," Peter said. "Let's play hooky. What do you think about pool?"

She gave him a look that made it clear he was probably going to lose. He smiled back at her.

He lost two games, won one. By the second game they'd taken to doing shots which is the only way he won the last game.

She was handsy, a new thing for Olivia. She tugged at his t-shirt, pulling him back towards the bathroom. He went along and then plucked her hand away from him. She said, "What were you doing this morning?"

"Planning ways to get you drunk on tequila," Peter said, leaning in closer so she had her back to the wall. Even in that position, Olivia Dunham had the upper hand.

She was unzipping his jeans. He said, "Hi."

She said, "The more I ask you about the morning, the more you let me get away with."

"Let you get away with? I'm feeling fine," Peter said. She kissed his neck and she palmed his dick through his underwear. "Hi again," he said. "Are we doing this?"

"You said we were playing hooky," Olivia said. "Please don't make me think."

"Make you think about more than trying to figure out what I did this morning," Peter said. He pulled up her button down out of her slacks and unbuttoned it from the bottom up. She was wearing a utilitarian white bra. "I want to figure out if you own anything with lace on it." He was groping her breasts and she had her bare hand on his dick, and they were in the back part of this stupid dive.

He waited for her to stop and he assumed she was waiting for him to stop so it was like sex chicken, he thought and smiled. Her hand was wet and he could fall in love with her just by how her grip shifted and he was going to make an unbelievable mess. He held on to her delightful ass with one hand while he touched her breast and then her face.

He said, "Hey," and she was laughing at his face while he came. He opened the bathroom door and kissed her again. It took a few minutes for them both to be sort of sober and cleaned up.

She took his hand as they walked out. When they got in her car, he said, "I need to be dropped off at the Mandarin."

"Only if you tell me why," Olivia said.

"Just wrapping up some loose ends," Peter said.

"Loose ends of what?"

"Things I had to take care of now that I'm back in Boston and staying," he said.

At the Mandarin, he changed again and put on the the disguise he'd concocted. He talked to himself in the mirror, watching his mouth shape the words in the correct accent. He imagined brown castles and lakes and said the words again. He put in his brown contacts. Peter had made them, they were effectively invisible. He smiled and said it again and again.

As he walked out, he checked his new phone to make sure his new bank accounts were in place.

Nine hours later, he sat back against the wall in the alley, breathing in the smell of feces, urine, blood, and spoiled food. Thankfully, only the blood could be his. He pulled out his phone and called Olivia.

Thirty minutes later she was standing over him. "What happened to you?"

He smiled despite the pain from his split lip and cracked tooth. "My plan worked 95% perfectly."

"You can't be 95% perfect, it's like saying very unique," Olivia said. "Your eyes are brown."

"Contacts," he said. "How do you feel about another night at a hotel? Mid-priced, preferably."

"I'll drop you off, but I'm not coming in unless you tell me what's going on," Olivia said.

"I need to call a friend to meet us wherever you're taking me," Peter said. "I cracked a tooth."

"You have health insurance," Olivia said.

"I think my friend takes it," Peter said.

He fell asleep or passed out on the drive there. His friend Milton was waiting outside. Olivia directed them both to his room.

Olivia leaned against the door with her arms crossed while Milton worked his magic. Milton said, "I'm only this good because of superior equipment."

Peter said "you're welcome" around the laser drill in his mouth. Then Milton was finished and Peter paid him with half the cash he had on him. Milton left and Olivia's glare could power the sun.

Peter took out his contacts and then took his new phone. He meticulously smashed it. Olivia said, "Peter, I will draw my gun."

"I was getting Big Eddie off my back," Peter said. He was getting close to 2 million Euros into a few of his backup bank accounts. "He was a little upset when he realized what I'd done, but it still worked."

"I said we would pay your debts," Olivia said, her face softer. It wouldn't be tomorrow morning when she saw the police reports which she was sure to look for. Honesty was the best policy here, if only because Walter probably had demanded that Peter stay on so she wouldn't do anything to him. .

"Paying the debt wouldn't be enough, he wanted me dead, money or no," Peter said. "Which he is now."

"Big Eddie is dead?" Olivia's expression was blank. She was not thinking about giving him a handjob right now.

"I didn't do it. I just put people together so that was one of a few possible outcomes," Peter said. "I'm not unhappy about it. He did want to kill me, he's killed more than a few people."

"And you worked for him," Olivia said.

"Because I owed him money, and I quit abruptly when I found out about the killing aspect of his work," Peter said. "I'm telling you the truth."

"No regrets for you," Olivia said, almost angry.

He smiled, feeling sick. "You know who I am," he said.

"I thought you'd changed," she said.

"I have, it's awful," he said. He rubbed his face.

"You did this because you were scared. This is your fight or flight response," Olivia said. "Did you make money?"

"Yes," Peter said. "Should I declare for my taxes?"

Olivia sighed and sat down next to him. "I don't want to know. Don't do this again."

"I won't, of course, Big Eddie is taken care of," Peter said.

"Will Charlie or Broyles figure out you did it?" Olivia took off her coat.

"Not definitively," he said. He put his hand on her back and she didn't shrug him off. "And I feel like I owe you. For the bar."

"Oh, god, no," Olivia said.

He took his hand away. "Or we never talk about it again."

She looked over at the lamp on the bedside table. She stared and then it turned off. "How did I do that, Peter?"

"I have no idea," Peter said. "You know who knows?"

"Walter won't tell me," Olivia said. She laid back on the bed and covered her face. "What's happening?"

He laid back next to her. "Will you think less of me if I say it scares me?"

"No," Olivia said.

She shifted so she was on top of him, her hips on his. He was started to get hard. "Are you injured anywhere else?" She smiled.

"No," Peter said.

He reached up and unbuttoned her ubiquitous white shirt. Then he reached around and unclasped her bra. She sat back, spreading her legs. She took off her shirt and shrugged out of her bra. She had gorgeous breasts. She pushed his shirt up and undid his belt. She tugged down his pants and underwear but he lifted his hips to help her.

He said, "Are you going to take off your pants?"

"Maybe," she said. Her hand was soft and steady as she cupped his balls and caressed his dick. She rested her head on his hip for a moment. He patted her hair. She moved and licked the same path her hand had taken.

"Fuck, Olivia, at least let me get you off before you get me off twice," Peter said.

She laughed, her breath hot puffs against his very sensitive skin. "You're getting me off first, don't worry. I just like you ready."

He sat up a little, resting on his elbows. He could see her sucking him off and her hand on his dick. He couldn't see what her other hand was doing.

It all just felt wonderful, hot, and then she was sitting back and moving again. She'd conjured up a condom and carefully rolled it down. Then she straddled him, lowered herself onto him. She was naked and he was almost dressed. It made it hotter, he decided. He reached out and touched her as she went up and down, slowly.

She came first and got off him. She smirked at him and kissed him and then her hand was doing something and he came again.

By the time he showered and came back into the bedroom, Olivia was under the covers, half asleep.

"I made a lot of money, too," Peter said, as he got in bed. "I could buy you a nice pantsuit."

Olivia smiled. "Please don't tell me that."

"Plausible deniability," Peter said. "Sexy."

He pulled her closer to him. "I don't know what happens tomorrow," Olivia said. "But you owe me." She ran her hand along his hip and his dick. "You better get me off. Then everything else."


End file.
